Perhaps
by tistrust
Summary: Perhaps they hadn't exactly defeated the evil Queen. Perhaps that was only half the story.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I always see Jake's side and I thought I would put up one with Wil's side of the ending. I'm pretty sure this is a one-shot, but I'll leave it up to reviews.

/-/-/-/

It was selfish, he knew that, but he always had been the selfish one. He knew there would be pain and blood but he was so glad that it would his. He didn't know if he could bear it if he had slit Jake's throat.

"_You can stop her. You know the story. It's you._" Wilhelm gasped, he couldn't hold on much longer. The knife in his hand was all too quickly making its way to his brother's throat. "_It's you."_

He was afraid, but he would be terrified if he had to see his little brother's blood on his hands. He couldn't hurt him, at least not permanently. Jake had always been the brave one. He was the one who wasn't afraid of anything, the one who would do whatever was right no matter what. Wil knew Jake could handle this. So, as usual, he did the selfish thing.

He let go of Jacob's wrist.

The knife plunged into his chest and as he had suspected there was pain. A great deal of hot, throbbing oh-dear-god-he-can't-breathe pain. As the thick blade plowed its way through bone he could hear a slight crunching sound, could feel his heart beat against the cold metal. One. There was a hard impact, he could feel blood at the back of his throat but he couldn't care less.

Two. Wil could hear Jake screaming. Had he hurt Jake? Did his blade somehow inadvertently cut into his little brother? He didn't know. He couldn't see.

Three. He couldn't see past the sharp hammering in his chest. He was paralyzed by it. It consumed him. There was nothing except whiteness and then there were hands, lightly caressing his face and Jake…

Four. Jake was saying his name. Wil tried to answer but all he could manage was a grunt and moan. Then more lightening as the knife nudged its way a little deeper into his heart.

Five. A strange yanking feeling, as if something vital was pulled away from him and the knife was gone. He might have screamed, but he wasn't sure.

Then it stopped. His heart had stopped. He would die.

He knew he would die.

He blinked and he was floating away. But his eyes caught onto the eyes of the Queen – his Queen. Such gorgeous, hypnotizing eyes. The pain was gone and in its place there was warmth and safety. It felt amazing. He knew everything was going to be alright as long as he could keep looking into her beautiful eyes.

He reached out to her. To her warmth and beauty and promise. And he let her take him.

/-/-/-/

"_-perhaps another kiss?"_ somebody said in a heavy accent. Cavaldi.

Wil was groggy. Nothing was making sense at the moment. When he opened his eyes slightly and he saw his brother leaning in. Far too close for comfort. Wait. Kiss?

"_Not you._" Wil groaned out. Everything was going so fast, all he knew was that his brother was about to kiss him – on the lips! – and he had to stop that. He just needed a moment and once he got everything together he would be ok.

Jake backed off, looking greatly relieved. Wil closed his eyes and almost sighed as the ringing in his head died down but then to his surprise he heard Jake call over Angelika.

/-/-/-/

Read and Review!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: It just sort of spewed out of me. Couldn't control it. Ah well, I suppose it will be a story. :D Might take a while for me to finish, hope you can hang on that long.

/-/-/-/

He and Wil had saved the day.

Wil wasn't dead.

Angelika fancied Jake.

It was the perfect story book ending. Jake knew that he should just leave well enough alone. He should be happy that that terrible nightmare was over. But there something was nagging at him, eating at him, and all out shouting at him that the terrible nightmare wasn't exactly over.

During the celebration he kept glancing at the woods, almost expecting the Queen to pop out and start taking little girls again. A few times he had been able to catch Wil's eyes as they strayed towards the forest as well.

Jake would then wonder if he should pull Wil aside and ask him if there was something wrong. Although Jake knew he would be brushed off, he still knew that there was something not quite right with Wil. As the celebration went on, Jake promised himself to keep an eye on his brother.

The town was quite a different place when villagers were happy. There was a lot more laughing and the children were able to run around without a single care in the world. Jake had to smile about that, he was glad that they could bring safety back to Marbaden. The children had asked him to tell them stories and Angelika had barely left his side.

Half way through the celebration, Jake noticed that Wil had started stumbling quite a bit and Jake knew it wasn't from the ale. His brother almost fell but someone, Sasha's father, had been able to catch Wil before his face could hit the dirt. Jake hurried over, only able to catch the end of the conversation.

"It's probably from that fall I took." Wil supplied easily to Sasha's father, "I'll be alright by tomorrow, Gregor."

Gregor nodded, seemingly convinced and patted Wil's shoulder before leaving to join his daughter.

"Jake," Wil greeted him happily, albeit somewhat tired.

"Wil," Jake nervously licked his lips, "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Wil asked hesitantly.

"The Queen." Jake replied truthfully, he knew that Wil would never admit that he was so tired that he had to retire early from a party. So this was the best way to get his thick-headed brother into the cottage they were using.

Wil shuffled little, "Can't it wait, Jake. We're in the middle of a party."

"No." Jake didn't wait for Wil to deny him and simply grabbed Wil's arm and pulled him towards the cottage. Which, in such a small village, didn't take very long for them to get there. Once inside, Jake pushed his brother onto the closest bed while he took a seat on the other bed and dug around in his pack to pull out his journal.

Flipping to the last few entries he made, Jake opened his mouth but before he could say a word Wil let out a soft snore.

/-/-/-/

He was in a ballroom decorated with the finest money could buy. The stone walls were covered with paintings outlined in silver and gold frames and velvet curtains hung from tall columns. On the far wall, a large roaring marble fireplace filled the entire room with playful light. The dining table was a beautiful dark mahogany; at least he thought it was a dark mahogany. There was so little table surface that he could actually judge from as it had been packed with gold dishes full of the most delectable foods he had ever laid his eyes on.

Wil instantly realized he was starving. He had not had anything since…well he wasn't sure. There hadn't been much time for food when the French had tried to kill him and Jake. And since they were prisoners, Calvaldi hadn't thought much of feeding them but the Italian had given them some stale pieces of bread. But now, with the aroma of a full seven course meal begging him to sit and fill himself, his stomach painfully rumbled at him.

Mouth watering he pulled out a chair as light music started to play. Wil could care less about the music but then he heard a voice. His stomach reminded him of the need for food but the voice was seductive and low, almost consuming in its power. Wil looked away from the food, wanting – needing – to find the source. He could smell the sizzling sausages and his gut gave another painful snarl but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get himself to sit down.

At first the voice hadn't been making much sense, mostly because he hadn't been concentrating on what it said. The sound of it alone had stopped him from sitting at the table but now it was doing more than that. It was pulling him away from the table and once he was far enough, his stomach stopped bothering him. And he could finally make out the words. Such sweet words from such an enchanting voice.

"My handsome prince."

Wil followed her voice down a hallway, away from the aromas of homemade food and towards the darkest ends of the castle. He knew he should stop, but his feet kept moving. Propelling him faster and faster towards an unknown goal.

"Come to me."

/-/-/-/

Read and review, I swear its the only way to get me to keep writing. Otherwise I tend to do other things, like school work!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: It's going somewhere. I'm sure of it. :]

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Jake was pouring over his notes and journal entries. There must be something that he missed. The Queen had put so much effort into her resurrection, years and years of effort. How was it that she failed? She must have expected there to be obstacles.

Mirrors were tricky business, they were incredibly hard to enchant and as magical devices they were illusionary at best. They're reflections of reality, no matter what one saw in them, it was still a reflection and therefore not a true representation of what is really there. So when someone puts an enchantment over a mirror not only did they have to understand that they were enchanting reality – an actual physical mirror- they had to understand that they were also enchanting something that wasn't there – the reflection. The Queen had not only been able to enchant a mirror but was able to use it against them.

That only left Jake with the conclusion that the Queen was a very powerful and dark conjurer. Then how was it that Jake could break the mirror and the spell at the same moment? If the mirror was just a reflection of reality, then would breaking the mirror destroy the magic in the physical reality or would it destroy the reality in the mirror?

As Jake pondered this he realized that he wasn't sure if they had destroyed the Mirror Queen, at least not completely. Jake sat back in his chair and stared at the dwindling fire. He could still hear some laughter and music from outside but most of it had died down as the night wound down. Only the very drunk were out and soon even they would pass out into a blissful sleep.

Jake knew he should be in bed. He was more than tired. He was exhausted. The painful kind of exhaustion that made his bones ache. Jake had tried to lie down but every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing his dagger plunging into Wil's chest. He could swear he could still feel Wil's blood on his hands. He would love to fall into his bed and go off to oblivion, but despite how hard he tried his mind raced.

Jake glanced over at Wil and frowned. His brother had barely stirred since he had fallen asleep and Jake had been slightly afraid that Wil would just suddenly stop breathing, he was still not entirely convinced that someone could get stabbed in the heart, fall out of a tower, and still live to talk about it. Of their own accord his eyes would wonder over to check that Wil's chest would raise and fall as he was going over his notes.

Now though, Wil was tossing in his covers, the blankets twisting around him as if he were fighting off some giant snake. Jake watched for a moment, unsure what to do. From experience, Jake knew that waking his brother was a difficult task and waking Wil up from a nightmare sometimes involved ducking in order for him not to sustain a black eye in the process.

Jake stood and carefully made his way to Wil's bed, standing next to the bed Jake watched as Wil twisted some more as he debated how he should go about this. It was getting worse. Wil's fingers had a white knuckle hold on the sheets and sweat dotted his forehead, making Wil's dirty blond strands of hair stick to his face. Wil let out a deep moan as both of his hands flew towards his own chest. Jake paled as he recognized that it was the exact area where Jake had plunged the dagger into.

Wil let out a guttural cry as fingers scrambling on his chest, scratching and digging. Jake didn't hesitate for a second longer; Wil would hurt himself. Jake leaned over the bed and pulled his brother's arms away from his chest, pinning them to the bed as Wil struggled against his hold.

"Wil!" Jake shouted as he climbed onto the bed for better leverage, "Wake up! It's just a dream!"

Wil's breaths came shallower and more frantic as Wil bucked up, trying dislodge Jake. Jake almost lost his hold but had somehow managed to scramble back control.

"Wil!" Jake tried again, this time with a hard shake, "Wil, you need to wake up!"

Wil paid him no mind as his struggles worsened. Suddenly Wil roared painfully as he jackknifed up and in the flip of a moment had pinned Jake to the bed. One hand gripping and digging into Jake's throat and the other poised to strike.

"Wil," Jake gasped, completely surprised at the change in positions.

Wil made no movement except for that of his heaving chest. A look of pure confusion came over him as he tried to understand what was happening.

"Jake?" Wil asked in between gasps for breath. "What-what-"

Jake finally found enough courage to move and pushed himself up as Wil easily tumbled off of him and against the headboard.

/-/-/-/-/

R&R Seriously, I forget easily.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: No, I haven't forgotten about this story. I'm really only putting up this chapter because of a review I got recently. Thank you so much for reminding me that people still care about this. But I have been incredibly busy. I know that's not much of an excuse but I can't help it. If I'm not in class, I'm usually traveling somewhere exotic. I will do my best to keep this up though. :]

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Do you-do you want water or anything?" Jake asked as he dug around in the kitchen.

"No," Wil answered with a slight grimace of a smile, Jake mother henning him was always amusing.

Wil was still in bed, legs pulled tight against his chest as he clutched the blanket around him, he couldn't make himself move. He just kept shaking. His heart didn't feel _right_. Wil idly traced the neat ridge of scar tissue on his chest, the one that magically appeared after the spell left, his thoughts drifting further and further away until Jake was suddenly in front of him and practically slapping him.

Wil grunted and pulled back in surprise, "What Jake?"

"Nothing."Jake sighed, even though Wil could tell that Jake meant the exact opposite of 'nothing' Jake backed off a little.

"Don't worry so much," Wil shrugged as stretched out and tried to make himself relax, "I'm just a little tired."

"Tired?" Jake questioned incredulously, "Wil, tired means you're slightly sleepy. You look like you haven't slept in months."

Wil glared at Jake but didn't say anything in response.

"I think," Jake licked his lips, "I think the Mirror Queen is still alive."

Wil studied the stitching of the blanket and replied, "I think so too."

"Really? You believe me?" Jake asked, "Why?"

"It's-" Wil hesitated. How could he put this so that his brother wouldn't freak out? "It's just a feeling."

That was the best way to explain it, he had told Jake about the dream and his little brother had freaked out about that, but he wasn't sure how to explain the feeling. It was like his heart wasn't in his chest. He could feel the beats and rhythm but they felt distant and foreign.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Jake anxiously gave his sleeping brother one last glance before closing the door of their cottage. He made his way quickly to town to buy some food and supplies, he was pretty sure that they were going to stay in Marbaden for at least a few weeks. At least until Wil could stand without looking like a simple breeze would tip him over. But Jake was sure that if he said that to his brother, then he would be subjected to many glares.

They only knew so much about magic and most of it was probably embellished. Parts of stories grew more and more impossible as the stories were passed from mouth to mouth, but still Jake knew there was truth in them. The answer was in the stories. He just had to figure this out before…before Wil...

Running quickly to the center of town he picked up a few loafs of bread and some dried meats. There was something his brother was holding back from him, probably out of some odd need to protect his innocent ears, but there was something nagging at him.

Wil's heart was...there was something wrong with it. Jake could tell. Not just from the way Wil kept rubbing at his chest, but Jake had gotten up the nerve to put his hand over Wil's chest while his brother had been out cold. The beat felt off.

Jake wasn't sure how much time they had but he knew that he couldn't lose his brother. Not after losing everyone else. Wil was all the family he had left. Sure, most of the time Wil was an arrogant prick, stupidly oblivious, and completely self absorbed. But the thing was that Wil was the only one he could ever trust. He was the only person who was always there, right behind him; if only there to call him an idiot.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

His fingers were like icicles and the numbness seemed to have spread throughout his body causing him to stumble more than walk. He had his hands tucked in under his arm pits so that he could keep some warmth, but none of it seemed to want to stay with him. Each struggling breath brought a bolt of pain. It was freezing him from the inside out, he swore the air was icing over his lungs. He trudged forward, there was a cottage ahead of him, and he knew it would be a safe harbor away from the chilling wind and icy rain. His teeth had kept up almost a constant chattering that drowned out the pattering of the rain, but with each staggering step he was sure that he was getting a little warmer.

He was getting closer and the ice in his bones was starting to melt, he was sure of it. He stumbled quicker, and when he got to the gate he didn't feel quite so numb anymore, most of the feeling had returned to his arms and legs. By the time he reached the door he was sure that even his ears were warm again. He knew the moment he went inside, everything would be perfect that it would all be all right.

Then he noticed it. An incessant whispering. Music.

It had been there the whole time. When he was staggering though the rain and when he had begun to run towards the cottage but, only now, did he notice it. It was saying something to him, the same thing over and over again. His hand rested on the door knob. Warmth was radiating from it. He was so close to being warm, but the whispering was becoming clearer.

"_Come to me, my prince." _The whisper floated through ice and snow to reach his ears.

Wil didn't want to, it was so cold there. So utterly cold but he couldn't make himself turn the knob. The door was probably unlocked. But the whispering grew until it blocked out the sounds of the rain and wind. It was all he could hear and it was hypnotizing. If he went into the cottage he would become warm, but it was only temporary.

What about eternal warmth? Safety. Never having to worry about food or shelter.

Wil let go of the doorknob and took a step back from the door. Already he started to feel slightly cold again, though it was nothing compared to the outright frozen thing he had been before. The chill was already working its way up his spine and into his chest.

He wanted to be warm, but going into the cottage would not fix that forever. He should listen. That was the only way. The only true way to be warm was to listen to her. Leave the cottage and follow her voice.

No, wait.

Something about that logic did not make complete sense but her voice wouldn't give him time to think.

"_Come."_

He backed away from the door and towards the gate. With each step he took, icy tendrils wrap tighter around his heart. The frigid claws were closing up and crushing his chest. But it was alright. It would be okay. All he had to do was to follow her voice and everything would be all right.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

R & R


End file.
